


Sappy As Their Song

by sweetiejelly



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: F/M, Schmoop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-30
Updated: 2011-12-30
Packaged: 2017-10-28 12:27:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/307869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweetiejelly/pseuds/sweetiejelly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Amy wants a second first dance with her husband. The Doctor helps make it happen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sappy As Their Song

**Author's Note:**

> Written for schmoop_bingo's prompt: "wedding - first dance." Originally posted [at LJ](http://sweetiejelly.livejournal.com/126605.html).

“Geronimo!” The Doctor grabbed a lever and shifted it into go-go-go. If Amy stretched her ears as far as she could, like when she used to huddle at the stairs listening to her aunt and uncle bicker or when she huddled by her bed and listened for the sounds coming through the crack in her wall, Amy imagined she heard Earth music, music from her wedding, still drifting insistent through the door of the TARDIS.

She spun, let out a laugh, pure joy. Rory! She was married to her love Rory, to the man who guarded her and waited two thousand years for her. Seriously, who does that? And on top of it (and the delectable edible chocolate cake – no surprise non-stripper jumping out of it this time), the Doctor finally came crashing back into her life, into her wedding actually, and danced his silly bowtie off. It was a good day. It was a _great_ day. It might be the greatest day really as she was back here in this wonderful contraption that can take them anytime, anywhere. How much luckier could a girl get? Well, now that she thought about it…

“Rory?” She curled her index finger in a come-hither motion and pursed her lips.

Rory turned to look at her, that look she’d never get tired of looking. And he smiled. And then he bumped his knee on a bundle of loose wires. “Ow,” he bent to hold his tuxedoed leg but then with fresh resolve, straightened and limped over. “I think I might have bumped us over to Timbuktu there.”

“You didn’t!” The Doctor popped out from the other side of the control. “Not to worry!”

“I wasn’t worried,” Rory barely got the mumble out before he found his face cradled in Amy’s hands, found his lips pressed glossy and sweet against Amy’s lips. She tasted like frosting and like laughter.

“What’s that for?” He asked when she pulled back. “Not that I’m complaining. At all.” He tried to kiss her again but she was leaning back, that up-to-no-good glint in her eyes.

“Our first dance – I want another one. You think you’re up for it?” She rested her forehead on his and stared too pretty at him. It was all rather unfair.

Yes was on the tip of his tongue and then his head got in the way. “Without music?”

But before either of them could even say “cue,” music started, the same one from their first first dance, the same sappy tune. It must have been The Doctor and some more of his magic – perhaps he harbored a radio on board! – though The Doctor certainly was the furthest thing from their minds right then.

They began to sway and at first Rory was thinking that those were some strong wires back there that he bumped. But then he got lost in the light sway of Amy’s hips under his hands, got lost in the light play of smile on Amy’s lips as she rested her head against his.

“We could go anywhere,” she marveled as she danced with him. And Rory smiled into her hair and held her tighter. “We will.” It was much different from when he first asked her out to their junior prom, when he first held her and marveled that he could. It was much better. He no longer stepped on her toes or felt himself just a tad too short. Amy loved him and he loved her. And that was all that mattered, through time, through space, anything.

“I love you,” he blurted, his fingers stroking warm over her ring. This time Amy opened her eyes and crinkled them at the edges with a smile. “I love _you_.” And this time when their lips met in a kiss, it went on and on, sappy as their song.


End file.
